


The Scars You Can't See

by MoonlitMusings



Category: The Penumbra Podcast
Genre: Kinda sad mostly fluffy, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-09
Updated: 2017-09-09
Packaged: 2018-12-25 18:00:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 704
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12041232
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MoonlitMusings/pseuds/MoonlitMusings
Summary: You’re asleep next to me, and I can’t help but stare at you.





	The Scars You Can't See

**Author's Note:**

> I decided to experiment with 1st person/2nd person pov, and this is the result.

You’re asleep next to me, and I can’t help but stare at you. You’re so beautiful like this. You’re always beautiful, of course, but asleep you’re so relaxed, so calm. Your jaw is unclenched, and your brow unfurrowed, your breathing is deep and even, you look so unburdened.

My arm is thrown over you, holding you, and I slide it up gently to rest against your chest, feeling your strong, steady heartbeat, before slipping it down your belly, and back up again. I feel the texture of your skin against my hand, and study it in the thin stripes of neon light that make it past the blinds. I have all your scars memorized. I've counted and caressed and kissed every one of them dozens of times over. Every fight, every accident, every beating, every self-inflicted wound, I know them all. I'm as familiar with your skin as I am with my own. And that's to say nothing of the scars you can't see.

You’re quite the contradiction, so honest yet so closed off. It’s taken me ages to get to know you this well. But that’s alright. I’m patient. I know better than to push, especially with topics that make you feel so vulnerable. But I know, now, about so much of it. Your childhood, your mother, and the move, your brother, and Annie, and the guilt you felt over both of them. The guilt you still feel. I know about the academy, and the force, and how much it hurt you to lose that; to lose the structure and the feeling that you were finally in a position to make a difference. I know, now, about the engagement, and the dress still sitting in a bag in the very back of the closet that you swear you keep meaning to sell or throw out or burn. I hope you know you don’t have to, if it hurts too much. I hope you know that if you do, I’ll support you in that as well.

You’ve told me about so many cases, over time. So many good, but so many bad. So many that left you broken and bleeding. So many that ended poorly. So many without the happy ending you refuse to admit you were hoping for. So many that still keep you up, sometimes, wondering what you could have done differently. What you missed that slowed you down just enough to figure it all out too late. And so many where you know you couldn't have done anything, but you can't help but wonder anyways.

I know about your time working for O’Flaherty. The parts I wasn't there for you've told me about, and I know you were only doing what you thought was right. I know you still feel guilty over what you did for him. I know you're still conflicted over what you did _to_ him. That, I think, I understand better than most.

I know you still feel guilty over leaving me. You still worry that I haven't fully forgiven you, though I promise you, love, I have. You still worry that you're not enough, because you've spent your whole life being told you weren't, but you are. I promise, I _promise_ you are. You're more than I ever dared hope for.

I trace the scars on your body while I contemplate the ones on your heart, going slowly and gently, being careful not to wake you. You so dearly need your rest, after all. And of all the crimes I’ve committed, waking you right now would be by far the worst one. My darling, my sweetheart, my love, my goddess, my dear detective, my wonderful Juno. I wonder if you know how grateful I am for all that you've told me. How lucky I feel to know you so intimately. How blessed I feel that you've let me in. For as much as my heart aches for you, it also warms at the knowledge that you trust me to keep those soft, secret, hurting parts of you safe, the same way I trust you with mine. And I hope, that in those moments, difficult as they are, that you know you are safe, and so very loved.


End file.
